Welcome to the Mansion
by WildClover27
Summary: Garrison's sister moves into the mansion.  Can the siblings work things out?  And how will this go over with the guys? These should be read in order to make more sense.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

There was an air of boredom in the old English country mansion. The day was warm and there were at least a dozen better things the four male occupants of the common room could have been doing instead of waiting for their commanding officer to return.

The tall, distinguished black-haired man seated in the wingback chair laid the book he was reading on the end table. For once, he was unable to become engrossed in the classic he was trying to finish. There was dignity in the way he moved as he stood up and let himself out the front door. Outside, he stood at the top of the stone steps, breathing deeply of the fragrant air. The house had become too confining, almost like a prison. He stifled a shudder. The thought of prison sent a chill through his blood. Eyes sweeping the area, they came to rest on a figure approaching up the driveway.

It was a lone girl. A lovely one at that, from what the man could see. The sunlight sparkled off goldish-auburn wavy hair which hung halfway down her back. She moved with an unconscious balance and grace, despite the suitcase she carried.

Still maintaining the inborn dignity he possessed, the man went to meet her. She watched his approach, hiding her wariness. Although he had to be close to fifteen years older that her, he was still the handsomest man she had seen in a long time. His aristocratic Italian features helped her identify him as Actor. Craig had said he was big, but that did nothing to describe the real man. He had to be at least six foot four, broad shouldered, wide chested, narrow hipped and having the longest legs.

"Good afternoon," said Actor in his rich, resonant voice with the Italian accent.

"Hello," returned the girl with a smile she didn't feel. "I'm looking for Lt. Craig Garrison."

Actor cocked an eyebrow at this. "I am afraid the Lieutenant is not here at the moment. Allow me to take you bag. You will be much more comfortable to wait for him in the house."

Terry politely inclined her head, handing the suitcase to him. This was a situation she had not foreseen. As far as she knew, Craig rarely left his men alone.

As they walked up to the house, Actor asked, "What might your name be, Miss?"

"Terry . . .," replied the girl, "Teresa Garrison."

Actor looked at her in undisguised surprise. "Garrison?"

"Yes," said Teresa, "I'm Lt. Garrison's sister."

"I see," said Actor thoughtfully. "In that case you are most welcome to the mansion, Teresa."  
"Thank you, sir," she returned. "You must be the one they call Actor."

Actor turned on a charming smile. "That is correct. I hope that what you may have heard about me was not all bad."

"On the contrary," Teresa was enjoying this, "I have heard much of your illustrious reputation."  
Actor, quick to read a person, thought why the little chit is playing me at my own game. He was delighted.

Teresa was feeling some misgivings for not calling her brother first. She knew not only Actor's reputation, but that of Craig's three other men. Hardened criminals all, they were not the ideal company for a country girl. But then, the girl reasoned wryly, she no longer fit into that category either.

Actor escorted her into the house, determined to protect her from the others. Despite her brave front, he doubted she was ready to take them all on alone. Besides, being the Lieutenant's sister, if anything happened to her, the man's anger would know no bounds.

Entering the house, Teresa quickly took in the huge, cold, paneled interior. She would sure hate to pay to heat this place. It looked like a museum. An elegant stairway faced her, while to her left was a large room complete with built-in bookcases and a suit of armor. Not exactly a Garrison's preferred style. There was a sofa, several large chairs, and a gaming table in front of a stone fireplace. Two men were at the table, and one in a chair in the far corner.

Goniff was the first to notice the girl. "Cripes!" he exclaimed, "look what Actor found!" The blond Englishman's face lit up with a likeable grin as he appraised Teresa from head to foot.

The other two men in the room turned to look. The same look of appraisal shown in their eyes. The smile was missing.

"Leave it to him to find a skirt. Where'd you pick her up, Actor?" asked a stocky, dark-haired man at the table. Teresa quickly decided to keep an eye on this one.

"Gentlemen," said Actor, "may I present Miss Teresa Garrison, the Lieutenant's sister."

This revelation brought shocked and wary expressions to their faces. Actor took this chance to introduce the men to Teresa. She quickly connected dossier data to each name and face.

The man who had spoken last was Casino, the best safecracker in the Midwest and East Coast. He was also the demolitions expert. A tough, hard-nosed character, he was the roughest of the bunch.

Goniff, the Cockney Englishman, was a jack-of-all-trades, second-story man, and pickpocket. His likeable demeanor belied the fact he would steal you blind.

Sitting in the corner, cleaning a switchblade, was Chief. Silent most of the time, he was full-blooded Indian. A murderer, he could use that switchblade as though it were an extension of him. He was the driver and hot car artist. Though younger than Teresa, his eyes seemed older.

Holding her head up, the girl returned their assessments. Outwardly, she seemed calm and unconcerned. Inside, she was scared stiff. As if sensing this, Actor directed her to a chair and sat across from her.

"Do you have any idea when Craig will be back?" she asked conversationally.

"Anytime now," replied Actor.

"Why are you here?" asked Casino, bluntly.

Teresa turned to face him, "I'm here looking for my sister and brother. They're missing." Her tone said anything more was none of his business.

There was a too quiet silence as the others waited for Casino's reaction. Surprisingly, he just shrugged it off.

Goniff popped up over-brightly, "You play poker?"

Teresa looked at him, unable to keep from smiling. "Sure."

Goniff grinned and Actor shook his head.

Craig Garrison, sandy-haired, almost thirty, and bearing little resemblance to his sister, was tired and bothered. Any meeting with his liaison officer, Major Percy Schaffer, resulted in this. He wondered if the house would be in one piece when he got there. He hated leaving his men alone, but Kit Gallagher refused to let them in her bar. Their penchant for fighting had resulted in hundreds of dollars worth of damage the last time. The same held true for the nearer pub, the Doves.

He pulled into the yard and parked the black Packard. The house looked quiet. That was a bad sign. His men were never quiet with the exception of Chief.

No one paid a whole lot of attention when the Lieutenant entered the house. The inevitable poker game was in progress. Hardly giving it a cursory glance, Craig turned away. The suitcase blocked the stairs. He looked at it in disbelief, recognizing it.

"Terry?" he turned toward the group.

"Hi, Craig," came a female voice. "Wait a minute. See you, and raise you three."

Garrison walked closer and saw his younger sister concentrating on a poker hand. "Terry!" he thundered.

Terry looked up sourly. "Will you hold your horses? I've been waiting two hours. You can wait five minutes." She returned her attention to the game.

Craig stood speechless. This was unbelievable. He came home out of the blue to find his sister, whom he hadn't heard from in four months, sitting playing cards with four men she wouldn't ordinarily talk to. She was supposed to be in the States, not in war-torn England. And especially not with his men.

Terry finished her hand, got up and hugged her big brother. Craig was stiff with anger.

"Terry, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

Terry was surprised at his brusqueness. "I'm looking for Chris."

Craig looked puzzled, "Chris? Where's Chris?"

Now it was Terry's turn to be puzzled, "Didn't you get Cinder's letter?"

"What letter?" demanded Craig. "The last time I heard from home was four months ago. You were with Dad in Washington and everything was fine at home. What's going on?"

Terry sighed, "Sit down. It's a long story."

Craig forgot himself and sat on the stairs. Terry leaned on the banister and began to explain. "Three months ago, Chris got word Nicky was killed in France. He was working for the O.S.S. Chris moped around for a couple weeks. Suddenly, she perked right up. A week later, she was gone, Kelly with her. She took off one night and never came back. She had to have help. They didn't take a car or a train. We tracked them to New York, where a Crystal and Kelly Bradford registered for one night in a hotel. The next place we found them was one night in a hotel in London. From London, they disappeared completely. We think they are with the O.S.S. in France."

Craig frowned, "She wouldn't take Kelly. He's just a kid. I believe she'd do something like that. But take Kelly?"

"I can see it," said Terry. "Chris would refuse to give up her plans and Kelly would refuse to go home. A Mexican stand-off."

Craig thought about it and shook his head. "If those two are in France… They can't take care of themselves."

"Well," said Terry, "if they're with Nicky's group, they'll be watched out for."

"God, I wish Chris had never met Nick Bradford!" Craig eyed his sister, "Just what do you expect to do here? Besides getting yourself killed in an air raid or something?"

"See what I can find out from the O.S.S."

Craig made a face. "Couldn't stay home could you?"

"Nope," agreed Terry. "Got an extra room?"

"You're not staying here!" said Craig, adamantly. "You can go stay with Kit."

"Uh – not really," hedged Terry. "Kit's living with Shiv."

"What?" said Craig, shortly.

"You heard," replied Terry. "My presence would not be welcome. And even if it was, I'm sure that would not be acceptable." She gave her brother a pointed look which he ignored.

Craig sighed, "You still can't stay here."

Terry gave a crooked smile at her brother. "Ye-ah, I can."

Craig looked at her sharply.

Terry hurried on. "We have to talk. In private."

"There's more."

"Just a couple things."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Terry grinned broadly, "Probably not."

"Outside!" Craig turned to his men. "And you stay out of it!"

"Of course," said Actor reasonably. "It sounds like a family matter."

Terry almost laughed at that, but managed to contain herself.

Actor did not miss the sparkle in her eyes. If she did stay, it might prove to be very interesting. He watched Garrison escort his sister out the front door.

Craig took a seat on the bottom step. "Okay, spill it."

Terry sat down beside him. "You remember our dear neighbor, Col. Cummings." Craig nodded sourly. "He's now Gen. Cummings. He's gotten his hands into your file. He's been in contact with some British twit, name of Major Schaffer, who has been telling him your group is more trouble than it's worth." Now she had Craig's attention. They want your group disbanded and the guys to be put back in prison."

Craig was getting angry. Coldly, he said, "Go on."

Terry looked at him. "Dad and I know this is your pet project. We know that it is pretty much working. And we know you don't want it to fail. So Dad decided he would send me to check up on you and your men, under the guise of looking for Chris and Kelly." Terry shrugged. "I'm not supposed to be telling you that part. Anyway, I am to stay with you. That way I can 'report' on your men."

Garrison digested that in silence. Without a word, he got up. Terry followed him into the house. He picked up her suitcase with a bit of extra force and led her up the stairs.

"Is she staying," questioned a Cockney voice.

"For now," was the terse response. "At least she can cook. Maybe this way we'll keep a cook around for more than a week."

The room she was given was surprising light and airy compared to the living room. A small diamond-paned window opened up to a view of the front of the house. She tested the bed and found the mattress comfortable. There was no closet, but there was a large armoire. Craig left her alone and returned to his men. As Terry unpacked, she thought about her brother.

She was shocked at how Craig had changed. He had been as wild as the rest of the kids. This stern man was not her brother. She supposed war changed people, but she hadn't thought about it affecting Craig.

She had kept in touch with their adopted brother, Monty. He was in a bomber squadron in the air force. There had been little change in him. He was still the same 'wild Indian' she had grown up with.

Terry opened the window and sat one hip on the sill. The trees were just starting to change color. In the distance she could hear heavy planes, the only thing showing there was a war going on here.

The door opened and Craig came back in. He had changed out of formal uniform and into uniform pants and shirt. Silent, he sat on the bed and watched his sister. She didn't say anything. Craig leaned back against the headboard and swung crossed booted legs up on the bed.

"How is everybody?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess," said Terry. "Mom's let Cinder take over the ranch. We're barely breaking even. Had to let the hired hands go." She moved to lounge in a chair. "I've spent the last few months with Dad at the War Department."

"You have clearance?" asked Craig in surprise.

"Hate to say it, Brother, but I have more clearance than you," admitted Terry. "Civilian. Anyway, Dad doesn't like it there. He wants to be over here."

Craig shook his head. "He got promoted one time too many." Abruptly he changed the subject. "What are you supposed to do if you find out where Chris and Kell are?"

Terry looked at him, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." She nodded toward the door. "How are they really working out?"

Craig looked sour. "We've proved it's a good idea, but you can't trust them for a minute. Keep a tight rein on them constantly or they'll stab each other in the back…probably literally."

"I'm surprised they haven't rebelled before now," remarked Terry. "Weren't they told it was just one mission then they'd get their pardons? It's been five months now."

"They're too valuable to turn loose," said Craig. "We need them. They're the only ones that can do this type of work."

"That's because they're being blackmailed," said Terry, cynically.

Craig looked at his sister in interest. "Whose side are you on?"

Terry replied seriously, "I don't know yet." She eyed her brother, "Whose side are _you _on?"

Relations the rest of the day were strained. The men watched Terry, sizing her up. She watched them, not trusting them for a minute, but curious to see what they were like as individuals.

Very early the next morning, Terry liberated the car keys and "borrowed" the Packard. She drove to Brandonshire, the nearest town. She was looking for a drinking establishment called the Blue Fox and a farmers market that was supposed to be open today to get some fresh vegetables and the like. She found something else first.

Walking bold as brass down the near deserted street was the blond Englishman known as Goniff. He spotted the Packard and stopped, watching warily. Terry pulled up to the curb and opened the passenger door. Cautiously, he got in.

"Warden send you after me?" he asked, surprised.

"No," answered Terry. "I don't think he knows you're gone. How'd you get here?"

"Hitched a ride in the back of a lorry," said Goniff matter-of-factly.

Terry wondered what he was doing here. Anticipating this, he grinned and pulled something out of his pocket. Terry held out her hand to receive the largest emerald ring she had ever seen. She didn't quite know what to do with it.

"Where'd you get this?" she asked.

Goniff grinned proudly, "I heisted it."

Terry swallowed hard and handed it back to him. "For heaven's sake, put it back where you got it."

Goniff shrugged, "I got to keep in practice."

Terry looked at him sharply, "_Can_ you put it back?"

"Sure," replied Goniff offhandedly. "The shop doesn't open for another two hours."

"So go put it back," said Terry. "I'll wait for you here."

Goniff gave her a calculating look, then pocketed the jewel and got out of the car. Terry watched him disappear down the street. Her mouth was cottony, her palms sweaty. She was sure the police would pop up at any second.

After what seemed like hours, Goniff returned. She stared at him, not knowing if he had the ring or not.

Goniff looked at her frankly and said simply, "Its back."

She for some reason believed him.

"So what are you doing here?" asked Goniff. "'Specially at this 'our?"

"I wanted to check out the town, look for the Blue Fox and get groceries. Craig said there was some kind of farm market here this morning." She looked at Goniff. "Now that we're both here, want to come along?"

"Sure," he grinned. "I'll give you the ten cent tour."

Terry started the car and let Goniff direct her through town. He took her first to the Blue Fox, which of course was closed. Terry noted with some interest that the bar was located directly across the street from G-2 headquarters. From there, they went to the far side of town where the street was blocked off and there were vendors lining both sidewalks.

Terry parked and retrieved a basket from the back seat. Goniff came around, took her by the hand and led her into the market area. Never knowing what to expect from him, she decided it was okay and let him lead on. He kept up a constant patter of joking, teasing, and making low funny comments about things they saw. Terry just could not help liking the Englishman.

They did a circle up and down the street, comparing the offerings. Some of the vegetables were rather poor, but still good. Interspersed were booths with fine cuts of meat, seafood, and exotic offerings.

Terry leaned to Goniff's ear. "Do some of these people know there is a war on? There's caviar and tins of escargot for cryin' out loud."

"Black market," said Goniff simply. "By the way, do you need money?"

"No!" said Terry, adamantly. "I got some from Craig last night. For heaven's sake don't go rob a bank."

"Not me style," assured Goniff. As she relaxed, he said, "That's Casino's thing."

Terry turned to look at him with a sucked in cheek. "Remind me not to go anywhere with him."

"Don't worry," said Goniff, gleefully. "He wouldn't take you."

"Good."

Terry proceeded to buy fresh meat, vegetables, bread, eggs and other staples. She tried to avoid the black market booths, but sometimes there was just no getting around it. Satisfied with her purchases, she turned to head back to the car and discovered Goniff had disappeared. She stood, searching the crowd, but could not spot the blond quicksilver man. Finally, she decided she was back on her own and returned to the car.

Goniff was leaning against the side of the car, a single red rose in his hand. He straightened and smiling brightly, held it out to her. Slowly she accepted it.

As if reading her mind, he said, "I paid for it."

Terry smiled, relieved. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome."

Goniff took her basket and packages and deposited them on the backseat of the car. He opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and he shut her door, walking around the front of the car, whistling. Getting behind the wheel, he drove them back to the house.

Pulling up to the house, Garrison was there to meet them. They both casually got out of the car and started retrieving packages.

"All right!" barked Craig.

"What?" asked Terry, innocently.

"What happened?" he demanded angrily.

Terry raised an eyebrow. "I went to Brandonshire to do some shopping. You gave me the money last night. Goniff rode with me."

Craig's eyes narrowed in disbelief, "Come on."

Terry seemed to bristle. With more than a touch of sarcasm she said, "Well you didn't get up to take me. I don't know my way around here yet. At least Goniff was nice enough to go with me."

Actor, who had come up behind Garrison at the first sign of trouble, stifled a laugh. The girl was lying. He knew it. She wasn't bad. With a little help, she might turn into something.

Garrison looked back and forth between his sister and the Englishman. Terry was glaring at him in her old defiant manner. Goniff was trying to stay away from the two spatting siblings.

Actor stepped around Craig and stood before Terry, blocking her from her brother. He gallantly took the basket from her, giving her an amused wink. "I trust you would like this in the kitchen?"

"Yes, thank you," replied Terry, not acknowledging Actor's gesture.

Somehow, she felt she had just taken a giant step in the wrong direction. It was a step up in Goniff's eyes, grateful for her cover. And further fuel for Actor's speculation on the abilities of the lieutenant's sister.

Craig remained at the car, silently watching his sister and his two men innocently going up the steps into the house. Not a one of the three was innocent. Not for the first time, Lt. Garrison thought it was going to be a long war.

In the kitchen, Goniff and Actor set the packages on the counter. Goniff quickly planted a kiss on Terry's temple. "Thanks, Love. I owe you."

Terry turned her head to glare at him in guilty frustration.

Actor was grinning openly at her distress. "Welcome to our little family, Teresa."

"Oh, get outta here . . . both of you!"

Actor laughed outright. The smile that twitched the corners of Terry's mouth belied the tone of her voice. Goniff skipped out of the kitchen, followed by a more sedate Actor.

Craig walked in the door to see Actor's laughing face. He gave the older man a 'now what?' look.

"She is a little spitfire," said Actor.

Craig shook his head, "You didn't grow up with her." He looked at Actor, "What am I going to do with her?"

"Nothing," advised Actor. "She's okay. She'll be fine here."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Craig.

**Chapter 2**

That afternoon, Terry returned to Brandonshire. This time the Blue Fox was open. There was nobody at the bar and only one couple in one of the far booths. Terry studied the room. A large oak bar extended along the left wall, behind which were shelves of every liquor imaginable. Booths lined the front wall. Around the room were scattered tables and chairs. A dance floor lined the back wall. The walls were paneled and the wood a rich dark brown. It looked rather like what she thought a British pub should look like.

Terry walked around the bar, located a refrigerator and extracted a bottle of coca cola. Opening it with a nearby bottle opener, she hopped onto a bar stool and waited for someone to appear.

A few minutes later, footsteps alerted her that someone was coming from behind the curtained doorway to the back. She sat watching a medium height, red-haired girl emerge from the curtains.

Kit Gallagher saw her childhood friend and a small smile came to her face. Her casual actions belied the fact that she hadn't seen Terry in more than a year.

"I figured you'd find your way to England sooner or later," she remarked.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," returned Terry.

Kit laughed, "Where are you staying?"

"With Craig," Terry sipped her soda.

This revelation brought a startled reaction from Kit. "You're living in the same house as the Gorillas?"

Terry fixed her with a quizzical look, "the what?"

"The Gorillas," repeated Kit. "Craig's men."

Terry raised her eyebrows at the name. "Yes, I'm staying with Craig's men."

"You're nuts" said Kit in awe.

"Well, I understand things are a little crowded at your place."

Kit looked uncomfortable. "Yes, you might say that. How did you know?"

Terry was amused at her friend's discomfort. "I sent him here didn't I?"

Kit sighed in relief. Terry had lived with Shiv in New York until her family broke things up and her father and Craig had hauled her to Washington. When things got too hot for Shiv in his business ventures, Terry had given him money to come to England.

Terry grinned, "Where is the dear boy?"

"He's not here right now." Kit was bursting with curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

Grimly, Terry filled her in on the disappearance of her siblings. Kit listened in disbelief. It had always been the Gallagher clan that pulled the crazy stunts. Of course, the Garrison's had never been far behind in that field.

Terry looked around the bar again. "So how do you stay open with no customers?"

Kit looked at her watch. "It's only four o'clock. Wait until shift change across the street at six. The place will be busting at the seams."

The door opened off the street to admit a tall, broad shouldered man. In the time it took for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Terry studied the man she hadn't seen in almost a year. The few strands of gray in the blond curls had changed to a gray smattering. Though the same age as her older brother, Jake Bradford's blue eyes had a much older look.

Shiv caught sight of Terry and in the brief silence a look of old friendship passed between the two. Kit watched in growing apprehension. She had a relationship with the man that could easily be terminated if he and Terry decided to resume their previous relationship.

"Well," said Shiv with studied casualness, "I know what I'm doing here. So what are you doing here?"

Terry cracked a grin, "I came to check up on how you were doing."

"Better here than New York," came back Shiv, amused. "Want to try again?"

Terry repeated her story. By the end, Shiv was frowning. When she told him about her living arrangements the frown turned to disapproval.

"Terry, you really should get out of there," he said.

"I can't," replied Terry.

"Why not?"

"Reasons," she relied vaguely.

"What kind of reasons?" persisted Shiv.

"Reasons I can't even discuss with you."

Shiv gave her a steady look, raised his eyebrows and backed down. Terry returned the look unflinchingly.

"'Ey, Kit!"

The three turned to look at a young sandy-haired woman who had appeared at the curtains. She gave Terry the once over and turned perceptibly cool.

"I need your help," she continued. "A problem with the inventory." Her accent was broad cockney. She ran a close second to Goniff.

"Yeah," replied Kit, tense. She disappeared with the girl.

Terry watched the spot they had gone through for a moment, and then turned back to Shiv. Softly she said, "Jake, I really am sorry about Nicky."

"Yeah, well, kid brother was always too wild for his own good." He looked sadly at Terry. "I'm sorry Crystal and Kell got mixed up in this."

"So am I," said Terry. "Can you get hold of Tinker?"

Jake Bradford shook his head. "No. Nicky and I got into it when he started with that mess. We were not on speaking terms and I don't know where his men are."

Terry nodded, "I didn't think it would be that easy."

Shiv looked hard at Terry. "Are you really intending to stay with Craig's hoods?"

"Yup," came the reply.

Shiv sighed in resignation. When Terry reached a decision, it was almost impossible to dissuade her from it. It seemed to be a Garrison family trait. "Do you still have a boot sheath?"

"Always," replied Terry.

Shiv placed his foot on the rung of her barstool and extracted something from his boot. He slipped it into Terry's hand. She looked down at the familiar pearl handled switchblade, and put it into the sheath in her right boot. She did not relish the thought of maybe having to use it.

"Listen, Terry," Shiv said, "if you run into trouble call me. Remember, I owe you one."

"Hopefully I'll never have to collect," she said. "I need to get back. I've got Craig's car. And I have to make dinner for the group."

She slipped off the barstool and squeezed his arm as she headed for the door. He watched her back with a worried expression.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

That afternoon, Terry returned to Brandonshire. This time the Blue Fox was open. There was nobody at the bar and only one couple in one of the far booths. Terry studied the room. A large oak bar extended along the left wall, behind which were shelves of every liquor imaginable. Booths lined the front wall. Around the room were scattered tables and chairs. A dance floor lined the back wall. The walls were paneled and the wood a rich dark brown. It looked rather like what she thought a British pub should look like.

Terry walked around the bar, located a refrigerator and extracted a bottle of coca cola. Opening it with a nearby bottle opener, she hopped onto a bar stool and waited for someone to appear.

A few minutes later, footsteps alerted her that someone was coming from behind the curtained doorway to the back. She sat watching a medium height, red-haired girl emerge from the curtains.

Kit Gallagher saw her childhood friend and a small smile came to her face. Her casual actions belied the fact that she hadn't seen Terry in more than a year.

"I figured you'd find your way to England sooner or later," she remarked.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," returned Terry.

Kit laughed, "Where are you staying?"

"With Craig," Terry sipped her soda.

This revelation brought a startled reaction from Kit. "You're living in the same house as the Gorillas?"

Terry fixed her with a quizzical look, "the what?"

"The Gorillas," repeated Kit. "Craig's men."

Terry raised her eyebrows at the name. "Yes, I'm staying with Craig's men."

"You're nuts" said Kit in awe.

"Well, I understand things are a little crowded at your place."

Kit looked uncomfortable. "Yes, you might say that. How did you know?"

Terry was amused at her friend's discomfort. "I sent him here didn't I?"

Kit sighed in relief. Terry had lived with Shiv in New York until her family broke things up and her father and Craig had hauled her to Washington. When things got too hot for Shiv in his business ventures, Terry had given him money to come to England.

Terry grinned, "Where is the dear boy?"

"He's not here right now." Kit was bursting with curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

Grimly, Terry filled her in on the disappearance of her siblings. Kit listened in disbelief. It had always been the Gallagher clan that pulled the crazy stunts. Of course, the Garrison's had never been far behind in that field.

Terry looked around the bar again. "So how do you stay open with no customers?"

Kit looked at her watch. "It's only four o'clock. Wait until shift change across the street at six. The place will be busting at the seams."

The door opened off the street to admit a tall, broad shouldered man. In the time it took for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Terry studied the man she hadn't seen in almost a year. The few strands of gray in the blond curls had changed to a gray smattering. Though the same age as her older brother, Jake Bradford's blue eyes had a much older look.

Shiv caught sight of Terry and in the brief silence a look of old friendship passed between the two. Kit watched in growing apprehension. She had a relationship with the man that could easily be terminated if he and Terry decided to resume their previous relationship.

"Well," said Shiv with studied casualness, "I know what I'm doing here. So what are you doing here?"

Terry cracked a grin, "I came to check up on how you were doing."

"Better here than New York," came back Shiv, amused. "Want to try again?"

Terry repeated her story. By the end, Shiv was frowning. When she told him about her living arrangements the frown turned to disapproval.

"Terry, you really should get out of there," he said.

"I can't," replied Terry.

"Why not?"

"Reasons," she relied vaguely.

"What kind of reasons?" persisted Shiv.

"Reasons I can't even discuss with you."

Shiv gave her a steady look, raised his eyebrows and backed down. Terry returned the look unflinchingly.

"'Ey, Kit!"

The three turned to look at a young sandy-haired woman who had appeared at the curtains. She gave Terry the once over and turned perceptibly cool.

"I need your help," she continued. "A problem with the inventory." Her accent was broad cockney. She ran a close second to Goniff.

"Yeah," replied Kit, tense. She disappeared with the girl.

Terry watched the spot they had gone through for a moment, and then turned back to Shiv. Softly she said, "Jake, I really am sorry about Nicky."

"Yeah, well, kid brother was always too wild for his own good." He looked sadly at Terry. "I'm sorry Crystal and Kell got mixed up in this."

"So am I," said Terry. "Can you get hold of Tinker?"

Jake Bradford shook his head. "No. Nicky and I got into it when he started with that mess. We were not on speaking terms and I don't know where his men are."

Terry nodded, "I didn't think it would be that easy."

Shiv looked hard at Terry. "Are you really intending to stay with Craig's hoods?"

"Yup," came the reply.

Shiv sighed in resignation. When Terry reached a decision, it was almost impossible to dissuade her from it. It seemed to be a Garrison family trait. "Do you still have a boot sheath?"

"Always," replied Terry.

Shiv placed his foot on the rung of her barstool and extracted something from his boot. He slipped it into Terry's hand. She looked down at the familiar pearl handled switchblade, and put it into the sheath in her right boot. She did not relish the thought of maybe having to use it.

"Listen, Terry," Shiv said, "if you run into trouble call me. Remember, I owe you one."

"Hopefully I'll never have to collect," she said. "I need to get back. I've got Craig's car. And I have to make dinner for the group."

She slipped off the barstool and squeezed his arm as she headed for the door. He watched her back with a worried expression.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Craig and the men were sent on a mission in France, leaving Terry alone at the mansion for a week. She took the opportunity to get firmly settled in. Her goal for the present was to make herself indispensable to them. That way, Craig was less likely to kick her out.

Mornings, she tackled G-2 and the O.S.S. for any information on her missing siblings. Afternoons, she cleaned the house up, washed clothes and in the evenings mended them. She had to turn a wry eye on these activities. She had not come to England with the intentions of becoming a housekeeper. If this was what it took to stay here though, she wasn't going to knock it.

Early one morning, Terry let herself out the back door. The grass in the back garden was over her knees. She shook her head. It was a shame the garden had gone to ruin.

A half hidden shed was buried between two willow trees. Curiosity made Terry wade over to it. The door creaked on rusty hinges. Inside was an assortment of gardening tools. Her face lit into a smile as her eyes came to rest on a scythe. The blade was dull, but that could be remedied.

An hour later, she was hard at work cutting the tall grass. She piled it into a wheelbarrow and dumped it into the woods. Then, she went over the yard with the lawnmower. All this took most of the day.

Terry quit in the late afternoon. She soaked in the bathtub for an hour, reading one of Actor's books. He tended toward the classics. There was also an extensive library on a variety of subjects from the arts to military strategy to medicine.

Getting her second wind, she climbed into clean clothes and drove into Brandonshire. The Blue Fox was more populated than when she had been there before. There were some locals, and a lot of uniforms. It was a combination of British and American. Even so, Terry thought there should have been more patrons at that time of day.

Kit was tending bar when she sat down. The redhead plunked down an open bottle of Coca Cola. She grinned at her girlfriend.

"What have you been up to?"

Terry grinned back, "Domestic work."

"You?" Kit cocked an eyebrow. "Josie could never get you to do it at home."

"I had the horses at home," countered Terry. She changed the subject. "Hey, I need a set of wheels. I can't have the Packard all the time."

Kit thought on it. "I can get you a motorcycle."

Terry's eyes brightened at the thought. She had always wanted a motorcycle. Her mother had forbidden it at home so she had been forced to make do with the pickup truck. They probably had to retire the truck after she left.

"Have you made any progress finding Chris and Kelly?" asked Kit.

"No," sighed Terry. "I've talked to British Intelligence and the O.S.S. All I found out was that they worked for the O.S.S. a while. Now, they claim they don't even know where they are."

"Sounds bad," Kit frowned.

"I don't know. She's probably up to something. I think me wee sister's gotten foxy. She doesn't stay in one place long enough to get tracked down."

"I wonder where she got it. The rest of the family's sure dense," Kit grinned devilishly.

"Coming from an illiterate Gallagher, I'll take that as a compliment."

Both girls laughed. This mock feud between the Garrison and Gallagher clans had been going on for years. It was their favorite pastime.

"When's Craig coming back?"

"Tonight," said Terry, gulping down her drink. "I should get back. I don't know what exact time they'll get in. Thought I'd make something for them to eat."

Kit shook her head, "You're wasting your time. Those animals don't appreciate it. The only thing they understand is a good swift kick to the head."

"Well, Kit," said Terry. "I wouldn't treat an animal like that."

Kit shrugged. "It's your funeral. Just watch your back."

"I watch my back, my front and my sides," assured Terry.

Terry was asleep on the couch when the sound of male voices and booted feet woke her. She sat up and looked at the clock. It was after one in the morning. The door opened and the five men dragged wearily in. They looked washed out. Shrugging out of his coat, Goniff was the first to see the girl.

"Hi," he managed to grin.

"Hi," returned Terry.

Craig turned and frowned. "You don't have to wait up for us." It was more of a command than a nicety.

"I know," replied Terry, ignoring the tone. She had everyone's attention now. "If anyone's interested there's sandwiches and beer in the kitchen."

Goniff looked at her hopefully. "Is there really?"

"Yes."

His face lit up, "Cripes, that's bloody good!" He bounced back toward the kitchen.

"Just leave enough for the rest of us, yuh dumb Limey," yelled Casino.

Craig definitely glared at his sister this time. He did not like her coddling his men. "Actor's hand needs attention. Take care of it."

It was on the tip of Terry's tongue to tell him not to give her orders, but she held her peace. There was a moment's uneasy silence as the men watched Terry's reaction. She smiled at Actor and asked, "What did you do to it?"

"Barbed wire," replied Actor, favoring Garrison with a look of disapproval.

"I do know about barbed wire," said Terry. The tension eased and the others went into the kitchen. "Why don't you get something to eat while I get the aid kit," suggested Terry.

Actor nodded and followed the others into the kitchen. Terry went upstairs and retrieved the first aid kit. She was seated on the couch opening up supplies when the Italian returned with a sandwich and a beer. He sat beside her and looked kindly at her.

"You don't have to do this," he said. "I can take care of it."

"Don't you start on me now," admonished Terry. "It's easier for me to do it than for you to do it one handed."

Actor inclined his head and held his hand out to her while taking a drink of beer followed by a bite of sandwich.

Terry peeled off a grubby bandana. It was Casino's neckerchief. "I thought he was missing something," she remarked with amusement.

Actor chuckled. "He is useful on occasion."

Terry looked at the jagged cut across the palm of the man's hand. It was not too deep. She picked up cotton and wet it with alcohol from a bottle. "This is going to burn," she warned. She swabbed the wound, impressed with his stoicism for not making a sound or movement. She knew firsthand what it felt like to have alcohol on a cut like that.

Craig's voice could be heard from the kitchen, threatening Casino and Goniff. Terry shot a worried glance in that direction.

"He always like this?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," replied Actor. "The Warden will not stand for any nonsense. He is pretty much all business."

"Something's happened to him," remarked Terry. "He wasn't like that before."

"He has a lot of responsibility weighing him down."

Terry still was not happy with the situation. She finished dressing his hand and was surprised when Actor lifted hers and kissed it.

"Grazie," he said.

"Prego," she answered automatically.

Actor looked at her in surprise. "You speak Italian?"

Terry nodded. She packed the aid kit up again and headed for the stairs. Actor's eyes followed her. She would bear watching. The more he was around her, the more he was convinced there was more to her than the quiet exterior she showed.

She reached the foot of the stairs when Chief came around the corner. He put a hand out to stop her, but did not touch her. Terry looked at him without fear.

"Thank you," he said quietly and clearly. "It was nice."

It was the most he had ever said to her. Usually he ignored her or just grunted. Terry smiled.

"I'm glad, Chief."

"Yeah, it was okay," Casino came around the corner.

The look of disgust Chief flashed him caused Terry to laugh outright. "Don't strain yourself," she said.

Casino looked stonily at the girl's grinning face. He didn't like to be laughed at.

"You act civil to my sister, Mister," commanded Craig.

That was pushing it a little far. Casino turned with the intention of belting Garrison. Terry's voice cut though first.

"Leave him alone, Craig. He's not hurting anything."

"I want you out of here!" said Garrison hotly.

Yeah, well I'm staying," shot back Terry. She turned and went up the stairs with dignity.

The men watched in apprehension. Nobody spoke to Garrison like that then turned their back. Craig's eyes burned into the girl's retreating back. He strode up the stairs after her.

Goniff looked sad, "Now she's in trouble."

"I don't think so." Three pair of eyes swung to Chief. "She can take care of herself."

"I agree," added Actor.

Casino shrugged, "She is a gutsy little lady."

The gutsy little lady walked into her room and turned to face her brother. Craig shut the door behind himself. His hazel eyes flashed dark green.

"I want you out of here, Terry," he said with restrained anger. "Go home where you belong."

"Sorry, Craig," replied Terry. "I'm staying."

"I'll find Chris and Kelly."

"I'm not leaving," repeated Terry. "If you kick me out just because Casino got mouthy, then they'll end up back in stir. As this whole operation was your idea, I don't think you want that to happen."

Craig was floored. She was right. As much as he refused to admit it, he liked those guys. They deserved better than what they were getting. "Terry, that's blackmail."

"Yes."

Craig's shoulders slumped. "You've changed."

Terry snorted, "Not near as much as you have."

They took assessing looks at each other. Craig chuckled cynically. "All right, stay," he said. "But don't blame me if you get in trouble with them."

"You're the only one giving me trouble," said Terry. She smiled affectionately. "You're supposed to be my supportive big brother, not our dad or my jailer. Okay?"

He looked at her sourly, but the eyes were returning to their hazel color. Terry knew things were all right now. She tossed the aid kit on the bed and hugged her brother. He sighed and hugged her back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Terry was awakened the next morning by a persistent knocking on her bedroom door. With a moan, she rolled over and propped one eye open. The clock read six-thirty.

"Go away," she groaned.

"Terry, get up," came Craig's demanding voice in a loud whisper.

Grumbling, she rolled out of the bed and threw her robe on. Bleary-eyed, she opened the door and glared at her brother.

"What is your problem?" she asked.

"Get dressed," said Craig, briskly. "We're going to G-2. I have to report to Major Schaeffer."

Terry eyed his neatly pressed uniform with distaste. "You go to G-2. I'm going back to bed. I have no desire to meet your major."

"I'm not leaving you alone in the house with my men."

"Don't worry. After I get up I'm going out to work in the garden. So I won't be in the house with your men." Terry shut the door in his face and propped a chair under the knob.

Craig shook his head and stomped off, muttering to himself. His sister dove back under the covers and burrowed into her pillows.

When she next awakened, it was nine. The house was still peacefully quiet. She dressed and padded silently downstairs. She set the coffee going before stepping out the back door. It was a beautiful day to work outside, too nice to worry about what would happen when Craig's men got up.

Terry was on her hands and knees, weeding, when her thoughts were interrupted by a crash from the house. Alarmed, she sprinted through the back door and across the kitchen. She skidded to a halt and cautiously stepped over a broken lamp in the dining room. Casino's and Goniff's raised voices reached her from the stairs. Actor was standing passively by the front door watching the argument. Terry moved up beside him, frowning.

"What's going on . . . oh my God?" Her glance caught upon a strange sight and she stared open-mouthed.

Casino was leaning over the banister trying to reach Goniff. The blond Englishman was dangling gleefully, clad only in boxer shorts, from the crystal chandelier.

"Wait'll I get my hands on you, yuh thievin' little Limey!" bellered Casino.

"Goniff!" screamed Terry in outrage. "Get down from there! I spent three hours cleaning that thing, not so you could break it!"

Goniff let go and dropped with agility to the floor. Terry blocked the stairs, halting Casino's downward plunge.

"What's this all about?" demanded Terry.

"He stole my bacon!" yelled Casino.

"Oh for Heaven's sake," said Terry in exasperation. "I'll make you some more. Now clean up this mess!"

"What?" asked Casino blankly.

"You heard me, Mister!" blasted Terry. "I agreed to clean. But I refuse to pick up when you decide to break all the furniture. Now I suggest you get rid of that broken lamp before the Warden gets back and breaks four necks!" She turned and stormed off into the kitchen.

There was silence in her wake as four pair of eyes followed her departure. Actor chuckled. Chief grinned at him and mouthed "Warden?" Actor shook his head. Goniff and Casino were silent. Casino came down the stairs and started to pick up the pieces of glass. The others bent to help.

A half hour later, Terry set bacon, eggs, and toast on the table. Goniff commented that at least Terry's bacon wasn't burned and almost stirred up a fight again. The moment was interrupted by Craig coming in the front door.

"Want breakfast?" called Terry.

"Yeah," replied Garrison wearily.

Terry got up and gave him her seat while she went back to the kitchen. "Do your debriefings always last this long?" she asked.

"No," said Garrison grimly. "It was the briefing that took most of the time."

A grumbling and groaning rose from the table. Terry came to the doorway.

"Aw, come on, Warden," griped Casino, "Not tonight already?"

"Can it, Casino," said Craig. "I don't like it any better than you do."

"What are they trying to do," asked Terry caustically, "kill you all?"

"That is the general idea," replied Actor matter-of-factly.

Terry shook her head and disappeared back into the kitchen. She returned with Craig's breakfast.

"Want to come out to the air base," invited her brother unexpectedly. "Joe Gallagher's flying us in."

"Sure," agreed Terry. I haven't seen Joe in a couple years."

That night found Terry standing beside the Packard with the men. She was oblivious to their grumblings as she studied the looming black form of the transport plane sitting on the edge of a field of B-17s. Joe Gallagher must have gone up in the world to be flying these from the biplane he and Kit used to barnstorm with.

"Hi!" Joe came around the nose of the plane.

Craig greeted him and then Terry said, "Hiya, Joe."

Joe looked around Craig and grinned, "Terry!" He held his arms open.

Terry went to him for a hug and kiss. Joe was a couple inches shorter than Craig and dark haired, though not a redhead like his sister.

"Kit told me you were here," said Joe. "I think you girls are crazy to come to this, but Kit I can understand."

With mock indignation, Terry retorted, "Yeah, well anything a Gallagher can do, a Garrison can do better."

"Including getting killed?" added Craig sarcastically.

Terry regarded him with a smile that was more of a grimace. To Joe, she said "After all, it takes a lot to put up with Sourpuss here."

"You've been invited more than once to leave."

"What and miss my greatest challenge?"

Joe laughed, "Come on, let's get going before you two start punching and scratching."

Craig took Terry's arm and pulled her a little ways away. In a low voice, he asked, "By the way, where's the lamp from next to the front door?"

Truthfully, Terry said, "I don't know what they did with it."

"Was it in one piece?"

Terry hedged, "It really was an ugly lamp."

Garrison glared at her, "Terry, I want you the hell out of that house when I get back!" This time he had forgotten to lower his voice. "You're in the way. I've got enough to worry about without adding you to it."

"All right, Craig," said Terry. "I'll be out of the house, but not out of Brandonshire."

Craig turned on his heels and stalked off to the plane. Terry felt her teeth were going to break from being clenched so hard. She watched warily as Goniff sidled over. He wore a worried expression.

"Terry?" he said tentatively. "We didn't want you to get in trouble because of us."

"I know," said Terry, relaxing a little. "Maybe it's better this way. There's no living with him anymore."

"Will you keep in touch?" he asked. "You're the only one who's treated us like people."

"Goniff!" Garrison's strident voice crossed the tarmac.

They looked and found the others had gotten into the plane. Terry touched Goniff's arm and he shot a quicksilver look at her. "We'll work something out," she assured him. "You can always reach me through the Fox." On impulse, she hugged him. "Be careful."

Goniff gave her a quick squeeze. "Thanks." He sprinted for the plane.

Terry stood by the car as Joe started the big engines. The wind from them whipped her hair around. She faced it with her head high. It wasn't until the sound of the departing plane faded away that she slumped.

Terry drove slowly the fifteen miles to the house. This was partly because she had to drive without headlights due to the blackout, and partly because of her mood. She was wide awake despite it being one o'clock in the morning.

Reflecting on the past few days, she was surprised to find she would miss the guys. They had never really bothered her. It was Craig who had caused most of the commotion.

The next morning, Terry was packing when a car and motorcycle pulled into the driveway. She went to the door and let Kit and Shiv in.

Kit came straight to the point. "Joe told me Craig kicked you out of the house."

"Word gets around," said Terry, heading back up the stairs.

The others followed her up and watched her resume packing. Kit flopped on the bed. Shiv leaned against the doorjamb.

"What now?" he asked. "You going home?"

"No!" came Terry's sharp reply. Shiv chuckled and Terry made a face. "I'm here now," she continued. "I haven't found Chris and Kelly yet. Besides, I don't want to go back to the ranch yet."

"The place next to where we live has an open flat," suggested Shiv. "If you're interested of course."

Terry turned and looked at him, shaking her head. "What would I ever do without you, Shiv?"

"Find you own flat."

Terry finished packing and they piled her things into the back of the car. Kit rode the motorcycle behind the car on the way back to Brandonshire.  
"Shoot," said Terry out of the blue.

"What?" asked Shiv.

"Now I won't be able to work on the garden."

Shiv grinned. "You really are turning into a domestic type."

"Something wrong with that?"

"For you, yes," replied her friend. "You should be in the thick of things. What happened to the girl who saved me from the gutters of New York?"

"She got old and tired."

"Then why isn't she back in Montana tending to her horses?"

"Because she isn't ready to go marry a neighboring rancher, combine acres and raise horses and little ranchers."

Shiv glanced at her, "Do you really know what you want?"

"No," said Terry thoughtfully. "But whatever it is, I don't think right now it's back on the Bar G."

"Stay here long enough and you may not have to worry about your future," said Shiv. "Ever been through an air raid?"

"No," replied Terry. "You ever been caught out in a Montana blizzard?"

Shiv laughed, "You've always got an answer."

Terry liked her flat. The landlady wasn't nosy, which would give her plenty of privacy. There wasn't an overabundance of furniture, but she didn't need much. Her friends helped her get settled in and then they all went to the Fox.

"Gee, I'm within walking distance of my favorite bar," cracked Terry when she found it only a block and a half away.

"And the same distance from G-2," threw in Kit, indicating the building across from the pub.

"Very convenient," observed Terry.

"For what?" asked Kit sharply.

Terry looked startled. Shiv glared a warning. Shrugging, Kit tried to brush it off.

"I meant," continued Terry, "that after spending a day trying to cut through the red tape looking for Chris and Kell, it will only be a short walk here."

"And the drinks are on the house," added Shiv.

The Fox was empty when they entered. Again Terry pondered on the lack of business. Kit and Shiv seemed unworried by it. There was something fishy going on, but Terry didn't know what.

They hadn't been in the building more than a couple minutes when the same sandy haired girl as before appeared from behind the bar. Again, Terry received a wary look.

"There's a shipment of wine just come in," said the girl.

Kit looked at Shiv who nodded for her to go. With a forced smile, Kit followed her. Terry refrained from remarking on the heavy increase in booze in a bar with few customers. She did ask Shiv who the girl was.

"Madge Blakely," he replied. "She takes care of our paperwork. I don't have the patience and Kit doesn't have a head for figures."

Kit didn't have a head for bluffing. But Terry didn't mention that either. They had been close friends too long for Kit to pull anything over on Terry.

After a soda, Terry excused herself and rode the motorcycle back to her flat. She spent the next week haunting G-2 for news of her siblings. The evenings were either spent tending bar at the Fox or her apartment. She made no attempt to contact Craig or his men. She wasn't sure of how to go about doing it without raising her brother's ire. Thus, she did not know they had not come back when they were supposed to.


End file.
